Flu Season
by Gazlover12-Canada
Summary: A Three-shot based off my story Worth it: There's only one thing worse than one child getting sick...which is having all four children sick. It's too bad the flu season is in full swing! Parental!RusAme, little!Francis, little!Feliks, little!Toris, and little!Arthur
1. Chapter 1

**A request from a Worth it reader, Sammy! (Sammy, you weren't logged in, but thanks for both reviewing and leaving a request!)**

**For those of you who have not read **_**Worth it**_**, Basically Ivan and Alfred are foster parents to Francis, Toris, Feliks, and Arthur. **

**Anyway, enjoy!**

It was mid January. Christmas had passed, and the weather was very chilly. Still, that didn't change Alfred's cheeriness as he awoke on a typical Tuesday morning to begin getting the kids dressed, fed, and on the school bus before seven thirty. He could hear Ivan finishing up his shower, and the sound of cartoons playing downstairs.

"Morning guys! Wow, already dressed huh?" Alfred greeted Toris and Feliks when he arrived downstairs. The two five year olds were staring at the screen intently, watching the yellow sponge on the Tv. Alfred would have joined them, but he needed to get breakfast ready. Suddenly something dawned on him.

"Hey, where's Francis?" He asked. Normally the French boy would be up with them. "And wait, where's Artie?"

"Arthur's in the kitchen. I dunno where Francis is," Feliks answered, eyes never leaving the screen.

Arthur was in the kitchen unsupervised? Alfred's eyes widened as he rushed into the kitchen as fast as he could. It was a good thing he did, because when he arrived Arthur had already dragged a chair over towards the counter, and was attempting to climb up onto the counter.

"Woah now, hold on buddy. What do you think you're doing?" Alfred asked, swooping his youngest into his arms.

"I'm making breakfast!" Arthur told him proudly.

"Really now? Well why don't I get the stuff for you, and then you can pour your own cereal. Sound good?" Alfred bargained.

"Yeah...can it be cheerios?"

"You bet," Alfred said. He got out the box of cereal, a bowl, (Which he poured the milk in for Arthur) and a spoon. He set them on the table before going to do his next task, which was to see where Francis was. If the kid was still sleeping then he would need to wake him up quick, since he was the kid that took the longest to get ready.

When he arrived in the six year old's room, he saw that the light was still off, and there was a lump in Francis's bed that had to be him.

Francis, time to get up," Alfred says, "Rise and shine pal!"

There was no reply, and Alfred frowned. Francis shouldn't be so tired. They always stuck with the normal bedtime routine, and he knew for a fact that Francis slept good last night. He crossed the bedroom and gasped at what he saw.

Francis looked, for lack of a better word, sick. His face was flushed red, yet he was shivering under the covers. Alfred felt his heart beat with panic, and he quickly felt Francis's forehead. He wasn't an expert on things like this, but he was almost positive that the little guy had a fever. This obviously made the panic even worse.

"Ivan, get in here quick!" He called loudly, and then felt bad when Francis winced at the sound of his voice. "Aw buddy, what's wrong huh? Tell me what hurts..."

"E-everything..." Francis replied pitifully. "I feel yucky, and my head hurts."

"What's wrong?" Ivan asked, walking into the room before Alfred could say anything. Then the Russian caught sight of their six year old and his eyes widened. "What's wrong with Francis?"

"I'm not sure yet...can you go get the thermometer?" Alfred requested.

"Of course," Ivan replied, and quickly left the room. Alfred instantly went to the closet to fetch another blanket, because the poor kid really was shivering. It was confusing though. If he had a fever then shouldn't they cool him off? But then why would he be shivering if he had a fever? Ugh, this parenting stuff was still so new. That only left one option; after they took Francis's temperature they were calling Doctor Elizaveta pronto!

"Here we are," Ivan said a few moments later, returning with a thermometer in his hand. Alfred sat Francis up in his lap and Ivan came to sit on the bed next to him. "Alright now Francis, you must keep very still while I hold this under your tongue. Can you be a good boy for Papa?"

"Oui," Francis muttered, opening his mouth obediently. Ivan frowned at how congested Francis sounded. It was normal for him to sound a little stuffy during allergy season, but this was different. It was like a cold, only worse.

The three of them were silent, Francis trying not to fidget as the cold metal was pressed under his tongue. As soon as it beeped, Ivan withdrew it from the child's mouth and studied what read. His eyes then widened a bit, causing Alfred to jump up in alarm.

"What does it say, what does it say?" He asked urgently, grabbing the thermometer from his husband's arms. Once it was in his possession he looked at it.  
102 exactly.

"I'm calling Doctor Elizaveta," Alfred said abruptly, leaving the room.

It probably wasn't any huge cause for panic, but both Alfred and Ivan always got that way when one of the little one's were sick. Usually it wasn't anything too bad. Francis never got sick that much aside from his allergies. Neither Toris or Feliks had yet to get sick while in their care either. The one who got sick the most was little Arthur, who almost always developed ear infections after colds. They were usually nothing too scary though.

"Alfred, be quiet!" Elizaveta interrupted Alfred five minutes through his rambling. She waited until he had shut up until speaking again. "Now explain to me again what's wrong. All I caught were the words Francis, and shivering. Please don't tell me he didn't get his tongue stuck to an icicle again."

"No, no, no!" Alfred told her. "He had a fever of 102, he's shivering, he says his head hurts...he says he just feels yucky! What do I do?"

"The first thing you need to do is take a deep breath," Elizaveta said firmly, and waited until she heard Alfred do so. "Now listen, there's really no need to panic. I was honestly expecting your call sooner or later. The flu's been going around, and that sounds exactly like what Francis has."

"The flu?" Alfred asked, appalled. "But they all got their flu shots!"

"The shot doesn't always work. We went over this, remember?" She reminded him. "Now listen to me Alfred. This is a very common illness, especially in young children. Germs spread fast in schools."

"Aha!" Alfred couldn't help but spit out. "That gives me a reason not to enroll Artie in school when he's older! But, um...carry on."

"Of Alfred," The Hungarian doctor sighed to herself. "Now listen up. You don't need to take him into the office unless his temperature gets higher. For now just give him motrin. The flu generally lasts for five days to a week or so. Just keep him comfortable, lots of fluids, rest...you know what to do."

"Rest, fluids, comfort...right!" Alfred replied.

"Good. Now another thing; the flu is very contagious. Don't be surprised if one of your other children catches it. Try your best to keep it from spreading though. All of you wash your hands frequently, make sure the kids don't get too close to Francis. Make sure to also wash all utensils thoroughly too. Other than that, you should be all set. I'll call back in a few days to see how things are. If you have any other questions or something comes up, call right away."

They hung up, and then Alfred proceeded to tell Ivan everything that the pediatrician had told him.

"I suspected that it might be the flu," Ivan said. "Well, at least it's nothing serious. You can stay with him today since you don't work on Tuesdays...do you think you can get tomorrow off as well? Then I'll see about getting Thursday and Friday off."

"Sounds good," Alfred agreed, and then turned to their sick child. "Well buddy, looks like you get a few days off from school."

Suddenly, something dawned on him. School...school...school...

"Oh crap!" He cursed, looking out the window just as the bus had pulled away.

"Don't worry, I'll drive Feliks and Toris to school right now on my way to work." Ivan assured him, pecking Alfred on the lips and smoothing down Francis's hair. "Feel better little one. And Alfred, have fun with Francis and Arthur."

"I will," Alfred chuckled, and then stopped. "Arthur...oh crap _again_! I left him in the kitchen to pour his own cereal...that can't be good. Francis, stay in bed. I'll be right back."

It turned out that Alfred had worried for no reason. Arthur had just finished his cereal when Alfred burst into the kitchen. He gave a sigh of relief, bringing Arthur's dishes over to the sink.

"You've got a special job today Artie. Francis is sick, which means that we both get to take care of him today." He told his youngest. Arthur's reaction was hilarious. The three year old's mouth dropped open in shock and his green eyes were wide.

"Francis is sick? What's he got wrong with him?"

"He's just got the flu. That means you can't get too close to his face, okay? We don't want you catching it too. But you can help me take care of him today if you want," Alfred said with a grin. No matter how much they fought, Francis and Arthur really did love each other. It was cute.

"I can help!" Arthur exclaimed excitedly. "Let me help daddy!"

"You can help. And we're going to start the day by giving Francis some medicine to help his fever."

Arthur's eyes widened comically.

"No daddy, you can't!" He yelled. "That's yucky."

"I know it's yucky, but it'll help. Trust me on this buddy, I happen to know for a fact." Alfred assured him, reaching into the cabinet for the bottle of kids Motrin. Once he had poured the correct dosage into a small cup, he gave Arthur the task of carrying a small cup of juice for Francis as well.

Just as they were about to head upstairs, Ivan was taking Toris and Feliks out the door.

"Bye kiddo's, have a great day!" Alfred waved to them.

"Bye dad! Tell Francis to feel better!" Feliks said as he and Toris waved back. Once they were gone, Alfred and Arthur continued their journey up the stairs.

"Ready for something to make you all better?" Alfred asked Francis once they'd made it back to his room.

"Ew," Francis said, wrinkling his nose as he saw the cup of medicine in Alfred's hand.

"Now. now buddy. You know this will make 'ya feel better." Alfred said gently, presenting the cup into Francis's smaller hands. The six year old hesitated for a moment before plugging his nose and gulping it down quickly. He gagged a bit before quickly chugging down the juice.

"That's my boy!" Alfred praised him.

Francis yawned in reply.

"Hmm, you should probably go back to sleep. I'll be back to check on you in a little while, okay? If you need anything just give a holler."

"Oui père," Francis said, half asleep already.

"Come on Art, let's go get you dressed." Alfred said after a moment. He himself still needed breakfast and his coffee, as his brain was now starting to feel dead due to lack of his morning caffeine.

They only had some peace for about fifteen minutes. Alfred had managed to get both breakfast for himself as well as himself breakfast. Just as he'd gotten Arthur set up on the dining room table with play dough, he heard Francis frantically calling his name.

"Stay here," He told Arthur, before bolting up the stairs as quick as he could. It was too late though, because as soon as he'd made it he saw that Francis, in tears, was knelt on the floor, throwing up all over the carpet.

"Hold on buddy, it's okay," Alfred soothed him, quickly pulling Francis's long hair out of his face. There was no use bringing him to the toilet now, seeing as he was already finished. Throwing up was of course no fun, so Francis was sobbing pretty loudly now that he was finished.

Luckily the puke hadn't gotten on anything besides the carpet. Alfred lifted up the sickly child and brought him to the bathroom.

"Rinse your mouth out okay?" He told him. "Then I'll set you up on the couch downstairs with a pot in case it happens again. We can put in a movie, okay?"

"I don't like being sick," Francis told him through his tears.

"I know buddy," Alfred agreed. He hated it whenever one of his kids were upset. He wished that he could just magically wish the sickness away, but all he could do was try to make Francis as comfortable as possible.

While Francis was rinsing out his mouth, Alfred went downstairs to set up a bed for Francis on the couch. He peeked in the kitchen to make sure Arthur was still occupied before going back to fetch Francis. He carried the child downstairs and set him on the couch, tucking the blankets warmly around him.

"There we go. Now how about Toy Story? We haven't seen that one in awhile." Alfred said, searching for the dvd and then putting it into the dvd player. Once the movie was going, he gave Francis a kiss on the forehead before going back to the kitchen.

"I made a green," Arthur said, holding a...lump...of green playdough.

"A green?" Alfred asked. "Well that's good! You made a lot of greens when you were still in diapers too."

"I made playdough?" Arthur asked, eyes wide.

"In a matter of speaking," Alfred replied. "Anyway, Francis is watching Toy Story in the living room. You can go watch that too before nap time if you want. Just don't bother Francis any."

"Okay! Here," Arthur said, thrusting the lump of play dough into Alfred's hands before racing out of the room to go watch the movie.

For the next hour things were good. Alfred was able to get the kitchen cleaned, the puke cleaned, do some laundry, make soup for Francis, and make a peanut butter and fluff sandwich for Arthur, with apple juice of course. Before he let Francis eat though, he checked his temperature.

"101.5...hey, it went down a little!" Alfred said cheerfully. "Now, do you think you can stomach some soup? Just try it, but if your tummy feels bad then don't push it."

Francis didn't have much of an appetite, but he did manage to take a few bites of the chicken noodle soup. Arthur ate all of his sandwich except the crust. Most of the sticky fluff had gotten on his hands in face, forcing Alfred to get a damp washcloth and clean him up.

"Now that the movie's over, I think both of you could use a nap." Alfred said, seeing that Francis already looked on the verge of sleep. Arthur of course pouted and tried to resist, but Alfred managed to get him in bed too. If Arthur didn't get his naps, things did _not_ go well.

Francis only slept ten minutes before sicking up again. This time it all went into the pot though. It still didn't stop Francis from crying again. Alfred completely understood. There was nothing worse than the feeling of throwing up. All he could really do was rub Francis's back and talk to him soothingly.

He ended up on the couch snuggling with Francis for the rest of the nap time hour. Then Arthur was back up of course, and very intent on helping Alfred take care of Francis.

"Let me do the thermo-tur!" He begged.

"Buddy, Francis is sleeping. Besides, I just took his temp an hour ago." Alfred reminded him patiently. "Now, how about we find something quiet to do. How about you go play with some toys?"

"No toys. I want to help," Arthur says firmly. Alfred wondered why on earth kids were intent on helping so much when they were younger. Just give him ten or so years, then he'll hate everything they ask him to do. Alfred really didn't want to think of any of the kids as teenagers for now though. They would get to that part when it came.

Alfred was unable to say anything though, because just then the house phone rang. He quickly glanced at the caller id and saw that it was the elementary school. Oh great, what were they calling for? He hoped that the boys hadn't gotten any trouble, because there was really no way he could attend a conference with a sick child and a three year old at home.

"Hello, Alfred Jones speaking," He said into the phone, trying to sound as serious and parent-like as he could.

"Good afternoon Mr. Jones," Mrs. Knight, the secretary, greeted him. "I'm calling because of Feliks. The poor thing is sick. He has a fever and he threw up in the cafeteria. We have him in the nurses office, so he can be picked up as soon as possible."

Feliks had caught the flu too? Oh crap, this really wasn't good at all. How on earth had he gotten sick so quickly? This morning he'd seemed fine before going to school.

"I was afraid this would happen," Alfred said with a groan. "Francis is home sick with the flu, so I bet Feliks caught it from him."

"The flu_ has_ been going around," The secretary agreed.

"Well, I'll be there soon to get him." Alfred said, groaning again on the inside. There was no way Ivan could pick up Feliks since he was at work, which left Alfred too. He really didn't want to drag Francis along when the little guy had finally fallen asleep, but he really didn't have a choice.

He ended up carrying Francis to the car. He'd left him in his pajamas though, but put his jacket on, and he'd also wrapped a blanket around him. Arthur was happy to go for a car ride to the school, so it wasn't much trouble to get him buckled in.

Once they reached the school, Francis had fallen asleep in the car so Alfred decided that he could leave them in the car quickly while he ran inside to pick up Feliks. He felt his heart break once he reached the nurse's office. Feliks was laying down on a cot, his face covered in tears. The normally cheerful child looked absolutely miserable!

"You caught it too, huh buddy?" Alfred asked, using a thumb to wipe some of the tears from his five year old's face.

"I dunno...I _was _okay! Then when we had sloppy joes at lunch I felt all yucky and my tummy was sick. Then I threw up all over the table! Everyone was screaming and saying ew. The nurse lady said I have a fever, and that I have to go home.." Feliks rambled. Even sick he still managed to talk until all his breath was gone.

"It's okay pal, it happens. Let's get you home and into some jammies, okay?" Alfred said, reaching down to hold Feliks securely in his arms.

"Thanks for everything ma'am," Alfred briefly told the nurse, before making his way back to the car. Feliks linked his arms tight around his parent's neck as he was carried. Once they reached the van, Alfred put him in his car seat. Francis was still sound asleep, but Arthur was wide awake.

"Sorry you're sick Feliks," The younger child said, reaching over to pat him.

"It's okay. But wait...do I have to take medicine?" Feliks asked.

"Probably dude. After all, you want to feel better don't you?" Alfred replied.

"When will I get better? Tomorrow? Because tomorrow real firemen are coming to talk about fire safety! Me and Toris were going to both give them out pictures of firetrucks we drew..."

"We'll see..." Alfred said, feeling a little guilty. There was no way he would get over this within a day, but he didn't want to have Feliks upset right now.

So now there were two down sick, and two healthy.

For now at least.

**a/n: Hows it looking guys? Are y'all looking forward to Ivan and Alfred having to deal with four sick kids, cause I sure am!**

**It'll probably be a three shot. **

**Feel free to _Review_!**


	2. Chapter 2

Ivan did his best to get home as soon as his boss would let him after Alfred called and told him that Feliks was stricken with the flu as well. Thankfully he was able to get off an hour early, and was home by four.

As soon as he got inside the house, he was greeted with the sight of a very messy living room. Feliks and Francis were both laying on opposite ends of the couch. Feliks was asleep with a damp washcloth on his forehead, and Francis looked like had had just woken up, watching some movie on the tv.

"HI babe, you're home early!" Alfred greeted him when Ivan walked into the kitchen. Ivan studied Alfred for a moment. He looked pretty tired. It must have been a challenge today, taking care of both two little sick boys as well as the healthy ones. He wrapped his arms around the American and kissed his neck gently.

"Why don't you go rest? I'll get dinner ready," He said, and then looked at Toris and Arthur, who were sitting at the table. Toris was practicing his letters and Arthur was drawing some sort of picture. "You boys will help me with dinner, da?"

"Da!" Arthur answered cheerfully, and Toris nodded. Alfred raised his eyebrow at Arthur speaking Russian, but smiled nonetheless.

"Thanks Ivan," He said. "Feliks and Francis really can't stomach much except soup. I just checked their temperatures. Francis's has gone down to 100, but Feliks's is 103. If it get's any higher then we need to call the doctor."

"Right. Well I'll get dinner for the rest of us, and then we can give Feliks a cool bath. That might bring it down a little." Ivan said, remembering that when he was younger his parents often stuck him in a cold bath if his fever got really high.

"Okay. Call me when dinner's ready! I'm gonna lie down for a few minutes," Alfred said, heading upstairs. Ivan nodded to himself before looking on the fridge for something easy but good for dinner. He decided that spaghetti was a good option, and got to work.

"Feliks threw up all over the coffee table a little bit ago!" Arthur announced, as he ran over to cling onto Ivan's leg. "It smelled really yucky! I had 'ta plug my nose!"

"Mhm," Ivan hummed, setting a pot of water to boil on the stove. "Well, throwing up is normal with the flu. Now can you please let go of my leg?"

"No," Arthur told him, giggling. Ivan sighed again, but he wasn't too annoyed. He managed to walk across the kitchen to get the sauce, dragging Arthur along with him.

Dinner was finished in record time. Ivan managed to also get some soup for the two sick ones, bringing it out to them onto a tray. Alfred came back down, and so the healthy members of the family settled down for a small and simple family dinner.

"How was school today Toris?" Ivan asked, seeing the small boy only picking at his food. Normally Toris would eat right away, and he knew for a fact that the boy enjoyed spaghetti.

"It was good," Toris answered quietly staring down at his plate.

"Are you sure? Usually you're a little more enthusiastic," Alfred pointed out as he finished cutting Arthur's spaghetti up for him.

"Mhm," Toris answered, clearly not in the mood for talking. Both adults glanced at each other, but decided not to push it. From other experiences with their children, they knew it was best to never try and force them to talk. That never ended well.

"So how was work today?" Alfred changed the subject, looking at Ivan.

"Not too bad. A little busy in the morning, but after that it was fine," Ivan answered. Alfred was about to reply, but was interrupted by a small whimper, coming from Toris. His face had paled, and his mouth was clamped shut oddly, hands tensed. Alfred knew that look.

"Get the trash can!" He told Ivan, jumping up to go to Toris's side. Ivan managed to get the trash bin over to Toris just in time, and the child threw up noisily into it, beginning to cry as well. Arthur watched wide eyed as Alfred and Ivan tried to sooth Toris as best as they could. Once Toris was finished, Alfred felt his forehead.

"I think he has a fever," He said. "Come on bud, lets get you into some pj's."

It turned out that Toris had a fever, but it wasn't too bad. An early bedtime was decided, and so Ivan managed to tuck Francis and Toris into their beds, while Alfred gave Feliks a bath for his fever. It was not too cold of course, probably lake water temperature. It really helped cool off the sick boy, and then he was tucked into bed as well.

Earlier on his way home from work, Ivan had stopped at the store to stock up on some supplies. This included more medicine, tissues, gatorade and ginger ale, and so on. They had set up all the kids on Francis's room since it was the closest to theirs, moving the mattresses in there. Matthew had stopped by with a humidifier, saying that this would help relieve breathing and coughing, so that was set up in Francis's room too.  
"I'm staying home with you tomorrow," Ivan said after they had finished checking the children's temperatures again, and had given them more medicine to help them through the night.

"You don't have too. I can manage one more day," Alfred said tiredly, rubbing his face with a hand. "Besides, after a good night's sleep I'm sure they'll feel better tomorrow."

"Alfred, it is nearly impossible to take care of three children who have the flu all alone," Ivan told him sternly. "I just cannot believe that all three of them came down with it so quickly."

"At least Artie still doesn't have it. Maybe he'll be the lucky one this time," Alfred said hopefully. He especially didn't want Arthur to get it, because the younger the child was, the more dangerous the flu could be. Or at least that's what he read about the flu online.

"Maybe. We still need to keep an eye on him though," Ivan said.

"Speaking of that, we probably need to get Artie ready for bed soon too." Alfred realized as he checked the time.

"I'll handle that. Why don't you get yourself into bed as well? We wouldn't want you getting sick too," Ivan said, kissing Alfred on the neck before standing.

"Are you sure? He'll probably want a long story," Alfred warned him.

"I believe I can handle it, so long as he doesn't choose Cinderella again," Ivan said with a chuckle, before leaving the room to go look for their youngest. Alfred sighed in content as he changed into sweats and a t-shirt before settling in their nice soft large bed.

It felt good once his head hit the soft feather pillow. Ivan had a harder wave-cervical pillow because he claimed that feather pillows gave him neck pains. He really was missing out though, in Alfred's opinion. Anyways, the American closed his eyes and let a blissful sleep overtake him.

Ivan was on what he called "night duty". This involved waking himself up to check on the children every few hours. He wanted Alfred to get a very good night's sleep, because he felt bad for leaving him to take care of the kids all alone today.

Thankfully Feliks's fever had broken, and he looked to be sleeping peacefully. Francis still only had a mild fever, but he looked content in his sleep at least. Toris's fever had increased though, which concerned the Russian a bit. The five year old was shivering in his sleep, and letting out quiet whimpers. Ivan put an extra blanket on him, murmuring soft words to help relax him.

After Toris had calmed down considerably, Ivan returned back to his room to go back to sleep for a few hours. It was only about an hour later though, when both adults awoke to the sound of someone crying just outside the door. There was really no mistaking the crying either.  
It was Arthur.

"Oh no," Alfred said, quickly stirring from his slumber. He and Ivan rushed out of the, flinging the door open. Just as they expected, Arthur was standing right outside their door, on wobbly legs, crying his little heart out.

"Feel y-yucky...hurt..." Arthur whimpered.

"Aww, come here buddy. It's okay baby boy, daddy's here," Alfred said instantly, scooping the three year old into his arms.

"He definitely has a fever," Ivan said, noticing how flushed Arthur's cheeks were. "So much for hoping that he wouldn't catch it..."

It was official. All four kids were down with the flu. That meant that basically Alfred had turned frantic, especially when it turned out Arthur had a fever or 103. He grabbed the phone right away and dialed Dr. Elizaveta's personal cell phone (don't even ask how he managed to get it, long story).

"Who on earth is calling me at 4:30 in the morning?" Elizaveta grumbled into the phone, sounding half asleep.

"Liz, it's me!" Alfred told her. "It's awful! Arthur has a 103 fever! 103! And he's only three years old! Plus Toris is sick now too, and Francis and Feliks are still sick, and gosh I don't know what to do!"

"What the...Alfred, calm down!" Elizaveta told him, more awake now. "You need to not panic. Listen to me. I want you to give Arthur some medicine, and then put a damp washcloth on his head. If his fever doesn't go down in the next two hours then call me again and we'll go from there."

"Are you sure? Well okay I guess. Thanks Liz." Alfred said, hanging up quickly. Ivan now had Arthur in his arms, and was rubbing his back while murmuring sweet comforts to the whimpering child. Just as Alfred was about to say something, they heard crying from the other room, sounding like Toris.

"You get Arthur some motrin, and I'll go to Toris," Alfred decided.

"Right," Ivan agreed, and they both went their separate ways.

It turned out that Toris had vomited again. Luckily they had put in a couple of pots earlier, so it didn't end up on the floor this time. Alfred ended up carrying him into the bathroom so that he could rinse out his mouth, and then go back to the bedroom to lie down with him for awhile. If he knew anything at all about tending to sick children, then he knew for a fact that they always felt better being cuddled or held.

Meanwhile, Ivan had the difficult task of making Arthur take some medicine.

"It's just a little bit Arthur. Don't you want to feel better? This will help!" Ivan tried to encourage, holding the cup to the stubborn child's face.

"No! I want juice!" Arthur demanded.

"I do have some juice for you. If I hand you the juice then do you promise to swallow the medicine?" Ivan asked.

"No," Arthur answered honestly.

"Please? Can't you do it for me and daddy?" Ivan pleaded.

"No," Arthur told him again. Ivan sighed to himself. He was never very good with persuasion. Alfred was much better at getting Arthur to eat or drink anything, which was why Ivan picked up Arthur and headed upstairs to find his husband.

"Sunflower, we're having a little trouble here. Arthur won't take his medicine." Ivan whispered quietly to Alfred, who was still laying with Toris on the mattress.

"Alright, we'll switch. Come here and lay with Toris." Alfred said, carefully getting up as to not disturb the almost sleeping five year old. Ivan passed Arthur to him, and Alfred gave their youngest a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

"No medicine, huh Artie? What if I told you a funny story about how my mommy tried to make me take medicine?" Alfred negotiated.

"Was the medicine yucky?" Arthur wondered.

"Very yucky. Far worse than this kind," Alfred told him, and proceeded to walk out of the room. The Russian very faintly heard Arthur agree to take the medicine so long as Alfred told him the story.

"How does he do it?" Ivan wondered aloud to himself.

It was four thirty in the morning, and they still had a lot of work ahead of them.

Today would be very busy.

**a/n: Sorry this took awhile. Over my vacation I myself got the flu, so I probably jinxed myself with this story. Christmas and the New Year also kept me a bit busy. Please know that I'm working on my other stories. I'm sorry that some have taken so long to update, like Alternate Universe Before and After, and Look Towards Tomorrow. They'll all be updated soon, I swear. **

**Hopefully this wasn't too terrible. There might be some grammar mistakes, since my brother didn't proof read this chapter.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Change: This is now a fourth shot. There will be one more chapter after this!**

* * *

It seemed that so far Ivan and Alfred hadn't even gotten a moment's rest. There was always something to be done, whether it was getting medicine to one of the kids, checking temperatures hourly, cleaning up vomit...you name it.

Francis seemed to be doing considerably better though. His fever was very mild, and he had even managed to stomach a piece of toast. Feliks was a little complicated. Though he was running a fever of 102 and had puked after trying to down a glass of orange juice, he really seemed to want to be up and about. Alfred and Ivan had to constantly make sure that he was resting rather than running around the house.

Toris was still in rough shape. He really didn't want to eat or drink, or even open his eyes for that matter. They urged him to drink, since Dr. Elizaveta had warned about dehydration. Toris's fever made him get quite the chills, so he was burrowed in blankets.

Arthur was probably the worst right now. He couldn't go an hour without throwing up, and cried very much every time he did so. His face was flushed with fever, and he was wrapped in his Thomas the train blanket (a present from Uncle Mattie). Since he was quite clingy when sick, they couldn't leave him alone for more than a few minutes. Currently Alfred was holding the little guy, who was on the verge of sleep.

Ivan meanwhile, was on 'living room duty'. Since Francis was feeling a little better and Feliks refused to lie down, they had set the two up on the couch that morning. Ivan had put Transformers on for them to watch, which kept them busy.

Toris was sleeping upstairs, where Alfred was keeping an eye on him as he also stayed with Arthur. It was only about ten in the morning, so they had the whole day ahead of them.

"I can't wait to go back to school," Feliks announced, pausing to cough. "I can like, tell everyone how much I puked!"

"I'm sure your friends will love to hear about that," Ivan agreed in amusement.

"Ew!" Francis wrinkled his nose. "No they won't."

"Yes they will!"

"Time for medicine!" Ivan announced cheerfully before Francis and Feliks could start a fight.

"Nooo!" Both boys exclaimed in horror.

"Ivan, come here!" Alfred suddenly shouted from upstairs. "I need some help!"

"Alright, medicine will have to wait. Don't think I'll forget though," Ivan told them, before quickly rushing up the stairs to see what Alfred needed. As soon as he reached the top of the stairs he heard crying, only it was coming from two different people. He ran towards Arthur's room, where he and Toris were both staying for the day, and instantly understood the problem.

There was a nasty pile of vomit on the floor, next to a very upset Arthur. The puke had gotten all over his jammy bottoms and shirt as well. Just a few feet away, Toris was out of his bed and on his knees, throwing up too. Alfred was in between them, trying to comfort both at the same time.

"Here, let me give Arthur a bath," Ivan said, picking the youngest one up. "Francis and Feliks will be alight downstairs alone for a bit."

"Okay," Alfred agreed as he patted Toris's back while the whimpering kindergartener finished throwing up. Since the little guy didn't have much in his stomach to begin with, he'd only upchucked stomach acid. The American really hated watching any of the children throw up, because he knew how awful it felt.

"Father...make it go bye-bye!" Arthur begged as he was carried into the bathroom.

"Shh, calm down little one. You'll feel better soon, I promise." Ivan whispered, burying his face into Arthur's soft hair. He shifted him into one arm, using the other to turn on the tub faucet. He made the water cooler than normal, since Arthur was running a fever still.

He then stripped the three year old out of his vomit covered jammies and sat him in the tub. Arthur sighed and closed his eyes, gripping tight to his father's wrist. Fifteen minutes later Arthur was done, and much cleaner now. He smelled of kiwi-mango kids shampoo, and his damp hair was combed. Once he was dressed in a new set of pajamas (Toy Story themed) he was as good as new.

"Mmm, he smells good!" Alfred exclaimed happily once Ivan came back into the room, carrying a now sleeping Arthur. He tucked out very easily while sick. "Let me see him!"

"Careful not to wake him!" Ivan warned in a whisper, but passed Arthur over. He looked over and saw that Toris had fallen back asleep too, wrapped up in several blankets, his breathing soft and even thankfully.  
"Thanks Ivan babe," Alfred said to Ivan as he tucked Arthur back into bed. "You should probably get back to the other two before-"

"Dad, Father! I was like, watching the movie and then I got an idea!" A certain five year old said, running into the room. "We should try to make our very own transformers! Wouldn't that be cool?"

"Feliks, you are supposed to be resting!" Ivan said, exasperated.

"I feel better though!" Feliks insisted.

"Really now? Because I checked your temperature less than an hour ago and you had quite the fever. If I also remember correctly, you also threw up just a little while ago. Healthy boys do now throw up and have fevers." Ivan told him.

"Well...I'm not all the way better I guess. But I'm like, almost as better as the regular better. So it's like I'm halfway better to being better!"

"So many betters..." Alfred mumbled to himself in a daze. Ivan wasn't phased at all though.

"Come on," The Russian ordered softly, holding out his arms. Feliks came forward and allowed himself to be picked up, and so Ivan carried him back down the stairs, placing him back on the couch. Francis had fallen asleep, and when Ivan felt his forehead he was glad to see that the fever was still practically gone.

"Can we get ice cream when everybody's better?" Feliks asked.

"That sounds like a splendid idea," Ivan agreed. "What flavor will you get?"

"Rainbow! Now wait, bubblegum! Or maybe like, the cake batter flavor! No I got it, all of them!" Feliks prattled off excitedly. Leave it to their newest foster child to be the most talkative one, even with the flu.

"Vanilla-strawberry twist..." Francis mumbled sleepily.

"How do you feel Francis? Is your tummy doing well?" Ivan questioned.

"Yeah," Francis answered, rubbing his eyes. "No more throw up feeling."

"Wonderful! You're well on the way to recovery then!" Ivan announced, clapping his hands together. "Soon you will all be as good as new!"

Ivan and Alfred had dealt with sick children before, but just not all at once. Arthur got colds often, and they would lead to ear infections and sinus infections. The doctor said that one day Arthur might need ear tubes to help someday, or possibly get his adenoids surgically removed to help correct the ear infection problem.

This was the first time taking care of four sick kids at once though. Granted, this would probably happen more in the future, so it was good practice now.

"Would you like to try eating something? Maybe soup or toast?" Ivan offered. After all, it had been awhile since Francis, or each other the children, could keep down a proper meal.

"Oui...soup." Francis answered.

"Excellent. Let me go make it for you." Ivan said, standing up to go into the kitchen.

"Hey guys!" Alfred greeted suddenly, walking down the stairs. "I came to check on the other half of our army. How are you two little troopers holding up?"

"We're doing great dad! Francis is going to eat soup!" Feliks answered.

"Awesome, I'm glad you feel like eating Francis!" Alfred said enthusiastically, ruffling both boy's heads. "I'm getting some water for Toris right now, since he really needs to drink more."

"Can I see him? How is he? I miss him!" Feliks said, bouncing in his seat with hyperness.

"Feliks, you just saw him a few hours ago. He's resting right now, but maybe he can come down here later if he's feeling better." Alfred told him, and then passed him to go into the kitchen.

"I heard Francis is having some soup," Was what Alfred greeted Ivan with. Ivan was standing by the stove, cooking a can of chicken noodle.

"Da, that is correct. Maybe he'll be able to hold it down." Ivan answered.

"Hopefully. Maybe you can try to get Feliks to eat a bit too. I doubt Toris or Arthur have much of an appetite right now. Speaking of which, I need to get some water before Arthur wakes and notices I'm gone." Alfred realized, quickly filling a cup full of cold water. Halfway towards the kitchen exit, he tripped over a random toy remote control truck, falling and spilling the water everywhere.

"Shit," He groaned, rubbing his knee, which had hit the floor rather hard. There would probably be a bruise in the morning.

"Here, let me help." Ivan said, grabbing a dish towel and rushing over to his lover's side. As soon as they both started to clean up the mess, a loud pitched wail came from upstairs.

"Uh-oh, Artie woke up. Can you go to him Ivan? I need to change out of these wet clothes." Alfred asked.

"Of course," Ivan replied instantly, leaving to go up to the loudly wailing three year old. Arthur always ended up crying if someone wasn't with him when he was sick. He was very emotional whenever ill, especially whenever he got ear infections. It was pure hell to give him ear drops for those...and very difficult.

Sure enough, Arthur was sitting up in bed, face streaked with tears as he sobbed when Ivan arrived. Toris was awake too, for Arthur's crying had awoken him.

"F-father!" Arthur hiccuped, raising his arms as an indication to be held.

"Shh, calm down Arthur. What's the matter, hmm?" Ivan murmured. He was a big softie whenever for of the kids cried, especially their littlest baby.

"Can I go down? Please? I don't like it up here." Arthur pleaded in between more hiccups as he clutched at his father's shirt.

"Well...I suppose so," Ivan said, a bit hesitant. Arthur really should be resting in a quiet area. Then again, maybe if they moved all of the children downstairs it would be more easier to look after them. "Toris, would you like to go downstairs too?"

"Yes please," Toris answered tiredly. Ivan picked him up as well, so now he held both of them in his arms. It took little effort to carry them downstairs, and once they had gotten there, he set Toris next to Feliks on the couch, and Arthur on the large comfy recliner. Went back upstairs to retrieve extra blankets, a few of Arthur's stuffed animals, and some of Toris's books. That would at least keep them distracted for a little bit.

* * *

"Now Feliks, this time you cannot try talking with it in, okay?" Ivan told him, holding up the thermometer. "Now open your mouth."

"Okay!" Feliks answered cheerfully, opening his small mouth widely. Ivan put the thermometer under his tongue, and Feliks closed his mouth around it. There was a silence for a few moments.

"Mhhn hmml em me hmm?" Feliks suddenly inquired behind closed lips.

"What?" Ivan asked, not able to understand him at all.

"Mhhn hmml em me hmm?!" He hummed louder.

"You'll just have to wait until it's finished, then you can tell me what you want to say." Ivan told him. "So be patient."

Soon the thermometer beeped, and so Ivan took it and glanced at the temperature. It was down to 99, so he practically had a normal temp now!

"I kept asking 'when will it be done' but you didn't answer!" Feliks told him crossly.

"I'm very sorry Feliks, but it was rather hard to understand you. On a better note, you no longer have a temperature!" Ivan told him.

"I don't? So I'm like, all better!" Feliks cheered.

"Not quite buddy," Alfred, who was holding Arthur in his lap on the recliner, spoke. "But you're almost better. Just give yourself a few more days."

"What about me?" Toris asked.

"Why don't we find out," Ivan suggested. After cleaning the thermometer off, it was then Toris's turn. Unlike Feliks, Toris was quiet and patient the whole time. Once Ivan withdrew the device, he smiled.

"101. Still a fever, but much better than before." He informed him.

Toris returned the smile to his father, glad that he was finally starting to feel better.

Arthur had the highest temp out of the four, at 102. It was better than 103 though, but still not good. He wouldn't allow Alfred to put him down, sitting quietly in his daddy's lap sucking his thumb while Alfred read the Berenstain Bears to him. Alfred worried a little bit because occasionally Arthur would rub at his ear. Hopefully he wasn't going to develop an ear infection. It wouldn't be uncommon though, since Arthur often did after getting sick with a cold and such.

* * *

Eventually it started to turn dark outside. All four of the kids were put to bed (in their own rooms this time.) Before this Ivan had cooked up some more soup. Francis and Feliks had eaten pretty easily, finishing everything in their bowls. Arthur had eaten only half, but that was still good. Unfortunately Toris had only eaten a few bites before his stomach had decided that it wasn't ready for soup yet.

Now, at 7:00, all the kids were in their beds. Well, everyone except for Arthur, who instead wanted to sleep with his parents. Alfred went on his rounds to the bedrooms one last time before he was going to sleep to. Even if it was early for him, it had been a tiring day.

"Well, at least they're showing improvement," Said Ivan, who was laying in bed with a book when Alfred came back in. Beside him Arthur was sleeping soundly, his stuffed teddy clutched tightly to his chest.

"True. Francis will probably be able to go back to school in one or two days. Possibly Feliks too, if his fever goes. I'm not sure about Toris. And Arthur...well he doesn't even go to school so I guess it doesn't matter," Alfred replied as he got into bed, turning off his nightstand lamp so that his side of the bed was darker.

"He goes to daycare though," Ivan pointed out. "And we both cannot miss too much work."

"Yeah," Alfred replied, running his fingers though Arthur's hair absentmindedly. "The school's pretty good with giving me time off though. But hey, I'm going to bed. Night babe."

"Goodnight," Ivan responded, leaning over to give his husband a quick kiss before settling back into his book.

It didn't take him too long to turn off his own lamp and allow sleep to come over him as well.

**a/n: Well...what do you think?**

**Like I said, there will be one more chapter I think. **

**Please feel free to review or somethin' :)**


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